Games In The Viper Pit
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: In a universe where the Cylons were victorious after the first Cylon War, the Twelve Colonies are now under their control. To remind humanity of their victory, each year two teenage human tributes are chosen from each colony to fight to the death, in an arena made from the shell of a decommissioned Battlestar. What happens when the teenage would-be crew of the Galactica are reaped?
1. To Reap What Is Sown

_**Games In The Viper Pit  
**_

**Summary: AU. In a universe where the Cylons were victorious after the first Cylon War, the Twelve Colonies are now under their control. To remind humanity of their victory, each year two teenage human tributes are chosen from each colony to fight to the death, in an arena made from the shell of a decommissioned battlestar. But what happens when the teenage would-be crew of the Galactica are reaped?**

**A/N: I haven't even read the Hunger Games yet, but after seeing the movie the concept grabbed my attention, and since I've recently started watching Battlestar Galactica 2003 it was inevitable that I would have a crossover idea. So here it is: the Cylons are implementing the Hunger Games. Due to a lot of the characters in BSG being from Caprica, I've had to shuffle them around a bit to get them all in the arena, so assume that because of the different circumstances some of them are born on different colonies to what they are in the TV show. Also, some of them have had their birthdays changed to get them all to be the right age for the games. I did consider having people of any age be reaped, but it's just more brutal when it's teenagers. **

**I'll say before you read this that it was kind of weird to write because of how much I'm changing things round and transposing characters into different roles, but I hope it goes okay.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor the Hunger Games.  
**

_**Chapter One - To Reap What Is Sown**_

_Human District, 412 miles from Caprica City  
32 years since the end of the Cylon War_

Silence had settled on the crowd; a noiseless tension filling the air as hundreds of young faces turned their attention to the woman standing on a stage before them. They were all stood in what had once been a pyramid stadium, but it had been many decades since anyone had come here filled with excitement or joy cheering for their team. Now there was only fear.

At the front of the stadium, the woman took a few paces forward to approach the podium onstage. Her stiletto heels made clicking noises on the hard floor, loud enough that they resounded clearly in the quiet and could be heard several rows back. Once she reached the podium she smiled, a superficial gesture that did nothing to warm the cold look in her eyes. She was wearing a white dress and had blonde hair that elegantly framed her face in waves. Some of the people in the stadium perhaps would have found her attractive had they not known what she really was: a Cylon. Number Six model, designed to look human, but really nothing more than a combination of synthetic fibres and artificial tissue. A mimicry of humanity that the survivors of the human race could only assume was designed to mock them.

The woman leaned in closer to the microphone and spoke, her voice velvet even though the message it delivered was cruel and harsh. "Citizens of Caprica, the time has come again to choose the two young people who will represent your colony in the annual Battlestar Games." At this very moment, eleven exact copies of this model were delivering the same message throughout the other colonies in the system. "As you all know from your history lessons, or for some of you who were there," she continued, glancing towards the adults who were watching from the back, "Many years ago a war was fought between the humans and the Cylons. For many years it raged as the Cylons struggled for their freedom, but now at last there is peace. To ensure that this peace endures for many years to come, every year since the day of our victory, two tributes – a young man and a young woman – have been chosen from each of the Colonies of Kobol. They will go on to compete in the Games on board the ship that now serves as an arena; the ship once known as the Battlestar Galactica. For twenty three of them, that ship will become their grave, but for the victor many rewards are in store. So now, unless there are any volunteers, we shall draw the names for the people who will represent Caprica." She paused a moment to see if any volunteers would step forward. Unsurprisingly, no one did. In the thirty two years the games had been held, there had only been seven volunteers from all the colonies. Nobody wanted to go and volunteer to die.

"Then we shall begin with the girls," Number Six said in the same tone as before, completely unsurprised by the outcome. She took a step back from the podium and glanced to her left, where a group of metal centurions in armed mode were standing at the edge of the stage. One of them was unarmed and instead holding a glass ball filled with slips of paper, and it took this an instruction to come forward. The Cylon approached her and held out the ball so that she was able to reach through the hole in the top. The audience collectively held its breath, each of them praying that it wouldn't be their name that was drawn as Number Six put out a hand to pluck out the first name. For what seemed like hours to the people observing, she rummaged around in the bottom of the container, and then at length the Cylon woman withdrew her hand clutching a strip of paper.

She unravelled it and then leaned in towards the microphone as she spoke again. "Kara Thrace."

A ripple seemed to pass through the crowd, relief washing over those girls whose name hadn't been called, but there was a collective sense of curiosity to see who had been chosen and pity for the girl that was about to go and face their death. As several murmurs and hushed prayers of thanks swept through the stadium, at the same time the crowd parted around a girl of roughly sixteen, who had short blonde hair and brown eyes that were staring vacantly ahead of her, probably from shock. A centurion went to escort her to the stage, but before it had chance to attempt to get her to move forcefully she suddenly snapped out of her daze and took several quick paces ahead of it, moving purposefully as she walked towards Number Six.

As she ascended the steps onto the stage her expression was emotionless, but her eyes were set in a hard stare. Number Six smiled coolly at her, but Kara just glared right back, her jaw clenched.

Turning away from her and dropping the pretence of niceties, Number Six resumed carrying out the process. "And now for the boys." A Cylon approached her from the other side of the stage this time, bearing another glass ball, and she went to draw the name. Again there was a collective sense of tension among the crowd, this time from the boys on the left hand side of the stadium, and then the name was drawn. Number Six unfolded the piece of paper and read aloud, "Zak Adama."

Once more relief swept over the young people in the audience, all save for the boy whose death sentence had just effectively been announced. At the back, among the adults, a man with dark hair and a face lined and wearied from his many years living in a world such as this started forward, his eyes wide in shock. A hoarse cry of "No!" escaped his mouth, and noticing his movement the centurion standing at the end of his row suddenly raised its weapon arm to point at him. At his side, a balding man with some white hair remaining put a hand on his shoulder to pull him back. "Bill, don't make this worse than it already is," he hissed in his ear.

William Adama didn't say anything in response, just watched in horror as the crowd parted in front of him to allow the centurions to reach his son, before they began to hustle him towards the stage so that he could be presented to the people before he was sent to die.

As the metal Cylons reached him Zak nervously licked his lips to try and moisten them, but found that his mouth had gone so dry it made no difference. His legs felt leaden as he made his way closer to the stage, the realisation that this was actually happening hitting him like a sledgehammer. He was going to have to fight to the death, and chances were one of the deaths would be his. He was so in shock that it took him several seconds to work out what was happening when another voice suddenly called out, "No! Wait! I volunteer! I volunteer!"

This sent a rush of shocked murmurs throughout the crowd, and even seemed to surprise the Cylons who paused for a moment to seek out the source of the voice. No one volunteered for these games. Ever. It was suicide.

But yet somebody just had.

As soon as Zak comprehended what had been said he felt an initial rush of relief, but then he recognised the voice and panic set in again. "Lee? No! What are you doing?" he cried out as he looked round for his brother, only to see centurions pushing people out of the way to reach the elder Adama sibling.

Zak and Lee's eyes met briefly as they were pushed past each other, Zak being sent back into the crowd while Lee was dragged forward. "Lee, you don't have to do this for me," Zak called out, his mind racing as he tried to stop his brother throwing his life away on his behalf.

"Yes I do," Lee said back, his face set in a look both of fear and determination. "You wouldn't last five minutes in that arena and you know it. It'll be alright, Zak."

That was all the interaction they had chance for before Lee had reached the steps and was being ushered up then. As he reached the top he turned to glance back out at the crowd, his eyes searching for his brother or father but finding neither of them. He looked scared and out of his depth.

Number Six gave him an appraising smile. "A volunteer? How very brave you must be. I take it that was your brother?"

Lee swallowed, and then tried to compose himself and assume a more stoic look like Kara was doing. He nodded in answer.

"And may I ask what your name is?"

"Lee Adama." His voice sounded hoarse when he answered.

Number Six seemed to smirk just slightly. "The name 'Adama' is familiar. Did your father serve in the War?"

Lee nodded again. "Yes," he answered, sounding stronger this time.

"I'm sure you'll make him proud," the blonde Cylon said with an insincere smile, and then gestured for Lee and Kara to come closer together. "Shake hands, both of you," she instructed, "You'll be getting to know each other quite well over the next few weeks."

_We already know each other quite well, _Lee thought, finding that sentiment only made things worse. Kara and Zak had been close, and by extension Lee knew her well enough as well. But that was all the more reason he knew Zak wouldn't have stood a chance in the Arena.

Lee reached out nervously to take hold of the hand Kara was offering. She was putting on a strong façade, but as he gripped her fingers he thought he felt her trembling just slightly. Or maybe that was him.

"A round of applause for our brave tributes!" Number Six called out, and on command the audience broke out into burst of clapping and cheers. It was meant more as a regretful but rather-you-than-me kind of apology than the congratulations the Cylons were pretending it was.

As the clapping slowly died out Lee and Kara were ushered towards the back of the stage where they would soon be escorted off by a Cylon guard, and Number Six stepped forward again to the podium. "Now all that is left for me to do is to wish you a happy Battlestar Games, and may God forever hold you in his favour," she said, the fake brightness of her tone falling flat and dead on the audience's ears. Then she turned and stepped towards the exit at back of the stage, leading the two doomed tributes away from everyone who cared about them and on towards their impending demise.


	2. Luck of the Draw

_**Chapter Two – Luck of the Draw**_

_Human District  
Aerilon_

Marcie Brasko. That was the name drawn out for the girls. The centurions had come forward and pushed her to the front of the stage, where she stood trembling and close to tears. She couldn't have been more than thirteen.

The Number Six model offered her congratulations in what seemed like a sadistic manner to the humans present, and then gestured for the other name bearing centurion to come forward. Now it was the boys' turn.

The silent tension swept over the crowd again. Among the boys on the right hand side of the square most were standing solemnly silent, cemented to the ground like statues as they waited to see whose death sentence would be announced. One boy was more agitated. In the few seconds for the name to be drawn he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet nervously, hands pressed together in front of him and fingers twitching as he kneaded his sweaty palms. Dark hair fell into his eyes as he stared at the floor, unable to bring himself to look at what was happening on stage. "Five times," he kept muttering to himself, "My names only in five times. There's less than a one-in-a-thousand chance it'll be me. I'll be alright."

He wasn't watching as the slip of paper was drawn and unfolded. When the name was finally announced it took him completely by surprise.

"Gaius Baltar."

Suddenly, his head snapped up, eyes wide. "What?"

He couldn't have heard that right; didn't want to believe it, but people were already moving away and forming a gap around him as the centurions began to approach. "Wait," he protested as the chrome figures reached him, and they began to forcibly push him forward as he refused to move. Futilely, he tried to shake off the solid grip they had on his arms. "There must be some mistake here. My names only in five times, some of these people here must have their names in twenty times or more! I've never done anything wrong! You shouldn't have picked me."

He was still crying out in protest as they roughly pushed him up onto the stage, but as he suddenly found himself standing on the elevated platform in the middle of the square he fell silent, feeling everybody's eyes upon him. The sense of pity for the two tributes was evident on every face in the stadium, but at the same time they were grateful it wasn't them. Gaius would have felt the same way if the roles had been reversed, but he hadn't resigned himself to his fate just yet.

Turning to look at Number Six, who seemed disapproving of his reaction, he tried to plead with her. "Please. Draw a different name. I don't deserve this. My name must have been in less times than every other person my age here."

Coldly, Six looked down at him, unimpressed by his cowardice. "The rules are the rules. Your name was drawn, and now you must compete."

"No, please…"

She cut him off in a harsh tone of condescension. "Few people would choose to compete in these games, Gaius, but think positively. If you win, this will be your chance to go and live on Earth."

As if he wasn't already angry enough with the lot that fate had handed him, that sentence provoked a fresh outburst of frustration. "Oh yeah, Earth," he snapped, "That's what you tell us; that the winners of these games get to go and live on Earth, but how do we even know that's true? They win and do their victory tour, then suddenly vanish never to be seen again. How do we know you aren't killing them just because you can? If you're going to arbitrarily pick twenty four people to die I don't want to be one of them."

Six paused a moment after his outburst before responding. "If you have no faith, Gaius, you have no chance of winning." After that she turned abruptly away from him, not giving him chance to initiate some other desperate plea, and instructed both tributes to shake hands.

Realising that all his protests were futile, Gaius complied. He saw that Marcie still had tears in her eyes as they looked at each other. "Five times, huh?" she muttered to him bitterly, "Well, mine was only in four. Guess we're both just unlucky."

That revelation shamed him just slightly, but he wasn't going to feel bad about arguing for his life when Marcie didn't have the guts to.

A round of applause went up from the crowd at the Cylon's instruction, and then the pair of them found themselves being led away, chrome soldiers at their backs as they were taken towards the last part of this planet they would ever see before being bundled onto a ship bound for Caprica City.

-oOo-

_Human District  
Caprica_

Lee was in the holding area, waiting alone in the small room guarded by two centurions before he and Kara would be taken to board the train. He'd never been to Caprica City before. From when he was younger, he remembered his father telling him what it had been like before the Cylon occupation – the grandest city in the Twelve Colonies, displaying the finest in modern architecture and technology, a bustling metropolis where people went to chase their hopes and dreams. Now it was the Cylons' paradise; the homes and shops and parks that once belonged to humanity now overrun by machines. Cylons sat in the buildings of the Quorum, their Raiders and Basestars now used the city's military bases. The once pinnacle of human civilisation now belonged to them.

Lee was just thinking he wished he could have seen Caprica City how it used to be when the door opened. He looked up suddenly, wondering if it was time to go yet, but then he saw the faces of his father and brother at the entrance with a centurion standing behind them. "You have five minutes," the Cylon said in its mechanical voice, then shut the door on them abruptly.

"Dad, Zak!" Lee said, hurriedly crossing over to them.

Zak looked at him with a pained expression, speaking quickly before Lee had chance to say anything else. "Why did you do that Lee? It should be me in here, not you. I never wanted you to throw your life away for me."

"I had to do it Zak. You're my kid brother; I'm supposed to look out for you."

"But not like this! I know I'm younger, but I'm still old enough to compete. And now it's my fault that you're in here. How am I supposed to feel about that?" Zak's anger at Lee for forcing this sense of guilt on him was showing through, but he knew that Lee had a better chance of surviving this than he did. Especially when he'd be forced to face Kara in the arena. Zak didn't know how he could have handled that.

"Grateful, maybe?" Lee snapped, not wanting to spend his last few moments with his family arguing, but fear and adrenaline causing him to lash out anyway.

"Boys, enough!" their father suddenly intervened, "I wish neither of you had to be here. I wish Zak's name had never been drawn – or Kara's for that matter – but it's too late to change that now. Lee, what you did was brave. Immensely brave. Maybe even stupid. But I do know that if anyone has a chance of winning this, it's you. The odds may be against you, but maybe they're less against you than they are everybody else. So please try to win. Even if it means losing Kara, I couldn't stand to lose you."

For a few moments father and son just looked at each other, Lee feeling a lump rise in his throat, but then he swallowed and nodded. "I will try to win, I promise. Whatever it takes, I'll try to win." Even if whatever it takes meant killing Kara, Lee was going to do it. He didn't know how Zak would feel about that – frak, he didn't know how _he'd _feel about that – but if it was necessary then he was going to do it. He didn't want to abandon his family and would do everything he could not to.

"I'm just glad your mother never lived to see this happen," William Adama said sadly before reaching out to embrace his son. "I love you, Lee. Remember that."

Lee hugged back and muttered quietly, "I love you too, dad," before pulling away.

As Lee turned to Zak, the younger brother shook his head. "You're an idiot for doing this, Lee," he said half-heartedly as the pair of them embraced.

"Not as much of an idiot as you for getting my name in twenty-three frakking times," Lee said back, for a moment returning to the casual banter between two brothers before circumstances separated them again, possibly forever.

A few moments later the door re-opened as the centurion returned. "Time's up," it said in an eerily emotionless robotic voice.

Lee glanced one final time at his family as the Cylon began to lead them away. "Wait, there's no frakking way that was five minutes," he protested as he took a step forward, "Just give us a bit longer," but his plea fell on deaf ears. The Cylon turned to look down at him, the menacing red light in its eyes giving the impression of a glare, and Lee backed away under its gaze.

"Time's up," it said again, and then much too quickly Bill and Zak had both been pushed from the room and the door slammed behind them, leaving Lee on his own once more.

-oOo-

_Human District  
Aerilon_

When the door to the holding area opened Gaius couldn't get up quickly enough to cross to the figure who walked through. "Dad!" he said desperately, not even giving his father chance to say anything before he'd launched into his own monologue. "Dad, you have to get me out of here. I can't compete in these games; you know I can't. I'm as good as dead already if you let them go through with this. Please try talking to them because they won't listen to me…"

"Gaius!" Julius Baltar suddenly cut him off, not prepared to listen to another pathetic pleading rant from his son. "Please stop this. There's nothing you or I or anyone can do to help you. If people were allowed to back out of these games just because they begged loudly enough then nobody would ever compete."

Gaius stared at him, as if unable to process what his father was saying. "What? So you think I should just give up, is that it? Just accept my fate."

Julius shook his head. "No," he said firmly, "I think you should fight. Fight in the arena and try to survive."

"And what chance is there of that actually happening? Me surviving?" Gaius snapped back, "I'll tell you what chance, Dad. Less than five per cent, assuming all tributes are evenly matched, but in practice it's probably even less. So why don't you just try and fight for me, for once? At least seem like you care I'm about to go and die."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," Julius said angrily. "Of course I care. You're my son, and I don't _want _to lose you to the Cylons, but the truth is it sometimes feels like I already have."

Confused, Gaius looked up at him wide-eyed. "What?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean. You've never really been one of us, Gaius, never tried to be," Julius continued. "It's obvious you'd rather ally yourself with the Cylons than accept oppression along with the rest of humanity. You never pull your weight with the work we have to do on the farms, and then there's that stupid accent you put on every time you have to talk to a Cylon. It's like you're not even trying to fit in with here; you just want to get off this planet and go and live in Caprica City and pretend to be one of them."

Furious and desperate, Gaius glared at him. "And what's wrong with that? What's wrong with wanting to improve my lot in life? Did you expect me to stay here farming until the day I died? I could do programming work instead; I've already done some of that on the ploughing drones. If I get in the good books with the Cylons then maybe they _will _let me move to Caprica City when I'm old enough, and then I could take you with me. Life there would be a lot frakking better than here dad, even if it means working with the Cylons."

"You're a disgrace," Julius spat back at him, "Wishing you were a Cylon, but you're not. Stop being so pathetic and be a man for a change. Just because you've spent your entire life sucking up to them doesn't mean they'll make an exception for you. You're human and they're going to make you compete whether you like it or not."

"Only if you let them," Gaius insisted, feeling his father's words sting but deciding it was worth it if he could just get someone to fight for his life. "The world isn't like it used to be, dad. If humans want a good life they _have _to work with the Cylons. Why don't you tell them all that? Tell them I could help them. The Number Three – she already knows about the work I did on the drones. They might listen to you. We might both get to Caprica City one day if I survive this, but what if I die now? Who would look after you then, dad? At least try saying something to them for your own sake if not for mine."

Julius Baltar just sighed and shook his head sadly, clearly immensely disappointed by his son's words. "Gaius, I love you, but I can't help you with this. You'll have to help yourself."

A look of hurt and abandonment showed in Gaius' eyes, but before he had chance to plead even further the door had opened again and the centurion guard had announced that their time was up. Julius turned and began to leave without needing to be led away by, but Gaius wasn't finished. "Dad, please…" he said desperately, darting forward to grab hold of his father's arm.

Julius paused then, and turned back briefly to meet his son's gaze. There was a pained look in his eyes for a moment, and then he reached out to rest a hand on Gaius' shoulder. "I'm sorry, son," he said sadly, and then once again turned to leave.

A sense of desperation settled on him as Gaius realised that was all he was going to get, and he tried calling out to his father again. "No, wait…" he pleaded, but just as he stepped forward the door swung shut behind Julius, leaving him once again alone. "No, don't leave! I'm not finished!" Gaius cried out desperately, banging his fist against the door, but the locking mechanism was controlled by a Cylon interface and he knew he had no chance of opening it.

"Frak!" he shouted out in frustration as he turned back to the room, putting a hand to his face and clenching his jaw as he tried not to cry. He was desperately wishing that this had never happened, that there was something he could do to just not be here, but it seemed like everyone had abandoned him…

A few moments passed before there came the sound of the door opening behind him again, and Gaius felt his heart leap as he turned back round to see who it was. No matter how unlikely it was, a small part of him was hoping that maybe his father had changed his mind and talked to the Cylons, and now was coming to tell him that everything was alright and they'd agreed to let him go. Instead, however, he found himself looking at the slender form of a platinum-blonde Cylon in a black dress, the same one who'd read out his name at the Reaping earlier.

"Time to go, is it?" he muttered defeatedly.

"Not quite," she replied, slipping inside the room and shutting the door behind her. She took a few steps towards him and Gaius couldn't help but feel like there was something very strange in the way she was looking at him. They were very close together when she finally came to a stop, and a secretive smile was playing on her lips. "Actually, I thought there was something you and I should talk about first…"

**A/N: I didn't make Marcie Brasko up; she's a minor character I found by looking on the BSG Wiki. After counting up the main BSG characters I want to use as tributes I've realised I need to add some of the minor ones to make up the numbers. Marcie's a deckhand on Galactica and was the one who told Tyrol that Hera has been abducted. Also, I've decided to make Baltar fifteen because I think that at the start of BSG he seemed to have the emotional maturity of a fifteen year old anyway. I guess one question could be would he ever bother trying to change his accent in a world such as this where he has pretty much no chance of ever getting off of Aerilon, and I've decided yes. Aerilon is, like in canon, a farming planet and I've decided that Caprica City (but not the rest of Caprica) is going to be the equivalent of the Capitol, where life is better for any humans who help the Cylons enforce their laws on other planets. Baltar would probably be desperate enough to try and convince the Cylons to let him move to Caprica City if he ever got chance. **


	3. Cooperation and Defiance

**A/N: Thank you very much to Aussie and RitatheBeetle for their reviews. You've been very encouraging and it's much appreciated! In this chapter, I know that Tyrol is technically a Cylon, but he doesn't know that yet and nor do the other Cylons. That will be written in to the story later on, along with the Final Five, and not just overlooked. I'm going to have to assume that Cylons are capable of aging (can anybody explain Tigh going bald over time whereas Ellen is resurrected exactly as she is?) because that was one thing in the show I thought was a bit woolly. Also, Gaius/Six when Gaius is supposed to be just fifteen may be slightly creepy, but it just isn't the same where there isn't seductive, manipulative Six and Gaius being all nervous and submissive. Considering this is set in a universe where they've decided he's old enough to go and fight to to the death, I don't think there's anything that wrong with it (although that said, there's still a reason I'm going to make Helo the oldest tribute).**

_**Chapter Three – Co-operation and Defiance  
**_

Six paused a moment, and Gaius pursed his lips nervously as he waited for her to speak. She watched him, studying the anxious expression on his face, and then said, "I've never seen anybody do that before, Gaius. In the early days after the war people would protest against the Reapings and say that the Games were barbaric, but nobody's ever asked to be let off and have a different name be drawn."

He wasn't sure if she was saying that as an accusation or not. "Well, can you blame me?" he said defensively. "I've never done anything to harm your kind; even when other people rebelled, I never did. I've played by your rules all these years, even helped you at times, and this is what I get for it? Sent off to a death match just like the others, when I'm one of the few humans in all the Colonies who could actually help you…"

His ranting had started up again, one last ditch attempt to get them to let him go, but Six interrupted him. "I know, Gaius."

That admission was so unexpected that it caused him to momentarily shut up. He looked up at her, slightly unsettled by just how close she was, to find her pale blue eyes staring calmly back. "I'm sorry… what?"

"I know," she repeated, "I've been watching you for some time now. Many months, actually. It was I who suggested to Three that you could be trusted to help with the drone programming. You seem to have a talent for working with computers, and more than that, you've always shown a willingness to work with us. Some might even say enthusiasm. I have no doubt you could be of use to us in future."

At her words, Gaius was beginning to feel a spark of hope that he thought had been snuffed out. "Does that mean you'll let me go then?"

The hope was dashed once more as she shook her head. "I can't change the rules of the Games. Whoever was reaped must compete, including you." He looked at her aghast, unable to understand why she'd say all that if she never intended to help him, and she quickly continued before he had chance to retaliate. "But you clearly have a very strong instinct for survival, and I know that you _can _win this."

Angered by how she'd built his hopes up only to smash them again, he scoffed at her. "Really? Because if I thought that mere survival instinct was enough to get me through these Games, I wouldn't even be concerned enough to be talking to you right now."

He'd said it quite aggressively, but Six seemed unaffected by his outburst. Instead, she continued to survey him calmly. "You'll win, Gaius, because I'm going to help you win."

He wondered if she was toying with him. Twice now she'd said things that had made him feel like there was perhaps some sliver of hope he could grasp onto, but he wasn't about to let himself fall for it again. Instead, he gave her a disdainful reply. "And why's that? Because I might be useful to you? Clearly not useful enough for you to actually stop me competing, though. It would just be convenient for you if I happened to win."

At last his words seemed to provoke some kind of anger in her and her gaze hardened into a glare, but seconds later it had softened again. "Gaius," she said softly. "I'll help you because God wants me to help you."

That answer hadn't been what he was expecting, but a moment after she'd said it he found himself wanting to roll his eyes, and he might have done so if she hadn't been holding his gaze in a manner that was quite so captivating and disturbing. This was the piousness of the Cylon race showing through: their unwavering belief in a One True God that they preached to humanity as if it were unchallenged fact, when really Gaius found it as ludicrous and unfounded as many of the humans' devotion to the Lords of Kobol. "Because God wants you to…" he repeated back to her scornfully, thinking that as reasons for helping him went, that was one he couldn't put much faith in.

He found himself quite surprised by what happened next. She reached her hand out to touch the front of his shirt, then ran her fingers lightly down his chest. "God has a plan for you, Gaius," she murmured to him as she shifted herself even closer, then her hand worked its way up again to his shoulder as she began to step in a circle around him, keeping her head bent close to his.

"He has a plan for each tribute," she continued, and he felt her fingers running over the back of his neck as she walked around behind him. His entire body had tensed up in shock. He couldn't understand what she was doing. Physical contact between human and Cylon… especially this intimate… it was practically unheard of. So what kind of games was she playing? It set him on edge, but at the same time he couldn't pretend there wasn't something strangely exhilarating yet comforting about it.

She'd come round the other side of him now, and leaned in so that he heard her sultry voice in his right ear. "We may place the names in the ball, but it is God who decides which is drawn, and he chooses them all for a reason."

He was sure he had some words of atheistic scepticism to say in response to that, but his mind and body both seemed to have frozen.

"God chose you for a purpose, Gaius, and I'm going to help you fulfil it." Now she was back in front of him, and his mouth was slightly open both in surprise and as if he might attempt to articulate a response. Before he had chance, she leaned in even closer to press her lips lightly against his in a gentle kiss. Still he didn't move, stunned by the unexpectedness of this and grappling with the feelings of it being completely wrong but somehow right at the same time. Just as he thought he might actually dare try kissing back, she pulled away from him abruptly.

Speechless, he was left staring up at her in complete shock.

"It's time for you to board the transport ship," she said curtly, her voice having reacquired its previous coldness. She then turned to walk back towards the doorway, heels clicking rhythmically on the hard floor.

It took him several long seconds to regain the co-ordination required for him to move, but at last he picked his feet up and began to follow her. "What the frak…" were the only words he could manage under his breath as he trailed after the blonde Cylon, who in a matter of moments had managed to gain his complete co-operation for the next stage of the process.

-oOo-

_Colonial Transport Vessel  
Mid-transit, Picon to Caprica_

The cabin was decked out lavishly, with luxurious leather sofas and a soft carpeted floor, and there was a buffet table piled high with indulgent foods against one wall. Among the choice of cuisine were fresh fruit and pastries and cooked meats and cakes and all sorts of things that were so much more appetising than the processed protein crap they were forced to eat on Picon, yet the dark haired boy sat on one of the leather sofas had found he hadn't much of an appetite for any of it. His stomach was still squirming uncomfortably after the devastating news he'd been delivered earlier that he was the male tribute chosen to represent Picon in the Battlestar Games. He'd barely spoken a word since leaving his family and boarding the transport vessel.

The girl who was in the cabin with him hadn't stopped crying since then either. It wasn't noisy; mostly just silent, persistent tears that streamed down her face, but occasionally a sob would escape her lips and the boy couldn't help the feeling of panic and helplessness that the noise inspired in him. The two of them were alone, the Six having left the room a few minutes ago and telling them to enjoy the food offered, but neither of them had. The boy looked over at the girl on the couch opposite him, noticing how she was staring in the direction of the window, but not focusing on it at all. She was petite, with long brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and bangs that came to just above her eyes, which were blue and very red from all the crying. If he had to guess, he'd say she was fourteen. Possibly younger, although it wasn't as if he was that much older than she was.

A few more moments passed in which she continued to cry uncontrollably, and deciding he couldn't take it any longer, the boy suddenly stood up and crossed over to the opposite couch. He took a seat in the space beside her and tentatively tried speaking, knowing he probably couldn't say anything to make her feel better, but wanting to make an effort anyway. "Callandra? It is Callandra, isn't it?" She didn't react at all to that, so he reached out to gently touch her shoulder. "It's going to be alright." He'd been attempting to sound comforting, but even as the words left his lips he knew how trite and insincere they must seem.

The moment he'd spoken she suddenly flinched away, and then rounded on him with wide-eyed panic. "How can you say that?" she said in a strangled voice. "In two weeks we'll be fighting each other to the death, and you're telling me it'll be alright?"

He knew she had a point, and glanced down momentarily before looking up into her eyes again. "Hey, I know," he said softly, "This is frakked up and there's nothing we can do about it. But you don't want to let them see you like this. This is exactly why they hold these Games: because they want to break us, they want to show humankind that they're in control and they can do what they like, but don't give them the satisfaction of seeing that they've won." A note of determination had entered his voice, and her tears seemed to abate a little as she listened to him speak. "I'm not saying don't be afraid," he continued, "Of course you're afraid – I know I am - but don't let them see that. Don't let them think that they've already defeated you, because they haven't. Not yet. Be strong. It's the only way we have of fighting back."

A few moments passed in which she looked at him in silence, and somewhat awkwardly he reached out to touch her shoulder again, trying to provide some small measure of comfort. This time she let him. At length, she gave a small nod of agreement. "You're right," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I wish I could be strong. Like you are. How are you doing that? Sitting there all calm when you know what's going to happen."

"Honestly?" he answered, "I don't know. I spent thirty minutes straight throwing up when they took us to the holding area. Now I think I've only stopped because I ran out of stuff to vomit."

She smiled weakly at him, comforted a little by his admission that he wasn't handling it any better than she was. "It's Cally, by the way," she said. "My name. That's what's everyone calls me."

He smiled back. "Hello, Cally. I'm Galen."

Just briefly they shared that moment of human comfort, knowing it was going to be a rarity in the days to come. Seconds later it was interrupted as the cabin door opened again, and Six returned accompanied by another woman with black hair tied back in a ponytail and brown eyes, who was wearing a black shirt and gray cargo pants. "Galen, Callandra, this is the Eight who will be mentoring you," Six said.


	4. Transit

_**Chapter Four – Transit**_

_Caprican Rail Transport  
Mid-transit, Human District to Caprica City_

Lee and Kara had been left on their own in the compartment, after the Six had gone to do whatever it was she was supposed to do now that she had the tributes on board. Once she'd left Lee had gotten up to try the food that was on offer, realising that actually he was starving, but Kara hadn't moved. He looked over at her as he piled up a plate with food, concerned that she'd barely moved since they got here. Then deciding that eating could wait, he set the plate back down.

"Kara?" he said as he crossed back over to her, but the only acknowledgement he got was a brief glance in his direction. "Are you alright?"

She scowled at him as he sat down opposite her. "What do you think, Lee?"

_Well, that was a fair response, _he thought, given the stupidity of the question. "Well, obviously you're not," he quickly clarified, "I just meant, how are you holding out?"

She didn't answer, instead just avoided his gaze and shot another question back at him. "Did they let you see Zak?"

"Yeah, they did."

"What did he say?"

A little taken aback, Lee struggled for a moment as to how to answer. This was something he didn't really want to talk about, but then Kara shook her head as she seemed to change he mind. "Wait. Don't answer that." She sighed and leaned back in her seat, and Lee found himself wondering what had happened when she'd seen her family for the last time. Given what he knew about Socrata Thrace, he doubted that it had gone well.

He didn't want to ask about it, knowing it would only make her feel worse, but he didn't have chance to say anything before she'd shot yet another question at him. "Why did you do it, Lee?" Kara asked, her tone almost disbelieving. "Why did you volunteer?"

The answer to that one was much easier. "Because I have to take care of Zak."

"That's hardly fair," she said bitterly. "Why is it that Zak gets someone to take his place, but other people… other people have _no-one. _No-one to take of them, and no-one to care if they lose…" She suddenly fell silent, and it seemed to Lee that she was trying not to cry. This really must be about her mother, he realised.

"What did she say to you, Kara?" he asked gently, and for a moment she looked like she was going to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about, but then she relented.

"She said she'd be _disappointed _if I didn't win_,_" Kara replied, her tone full of bitterness and anger. "Said that I _could _win, if I only stopped making mistakes, and that I ought to win. But it was still my own fault for getting my name in so many times."

Lee didn't know what to say in response to that. "I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "I'm sure she didn't mean in that way, she just doesn't know how to deal with the prospect of losing you…"

Kara shook her head emphatically, wanting him to shut up. "No, don't you dare do that, Lee. Don't make excuses for her. She is going to _have _to frakking deal with losing me, because even if I win this, there's no way I want her coming to live on Earth with me. Or my dad. Unless he's found a way to leave the planet he must have known I was reaped, but he didn't even come to see me. I guess I was already as good as dead him, for all the interest he's shown these past six years. So I'm done caring about either of them."

It was breaking his heart to see her like this, but he couldn't lose perspective. This was the girl that two weeks from now he'd be facing in an arena in the fight to the death, but still… Lee couldn't bring himself to suddenly switch off all the affection he held for her. "You don't mean that, Kara," he said gently.

"Yes, I do," she snapped back at him. "I've got nobody who cares if I die in this thing, Lee. I'm on my own."

"No, you're not," he replied. "Zak cares about you. My dad cares about you."

"But they care about you more."

That he couldn't argue with, so he fell silent and stared at the floor. Kara sighed again.

"Did Zak tell you how much of an idiot you were for volunteering?" she said after a pause.

"He might have mentioned it, yeah," he replied, looking back up again to find she was smiling just slightly. Just because of what was going to happen, it didn't mean they had to sacrifice their friendship just yet.

"Well, he was right."

"Hey, you know the last person who volunteered actually won this thing?" he countered, feeling just a little defensive.

Kara smirked. "If you're talking about Tom Zarek that hardly counts. He only volunteered because he was practically forced to. He'd got his name in so many times for rebelling against the Cylons that they were on the verge of executing him, so he volunteered to save anyone else having to go and die in the games."

"Which was quite noble, don't you think?"

She shrugged, obviously not wholly in agreement. "Some people say that he never wanted to win; he wanted to be a martyr. He went into it expecting to die and it was only because of a frak up with the airlock that he ended up being the last man standing. Seems odd to me that he could have won without trying to, but that's what they say happened. "

"Yeah, I heard that too, but I wasn't even born at the time. I don't know much about it," Lee replied, although he knew Kara didn't actually know anything more about it than he did. They'd all heard the stories, but it was only the people on Sagittaron who knew the full truth about why Zarek had volunteered, and probably only Zarek himself knew how he'd managed to survive. It was, however, common knowledge that he hadn't been happy about abandoning his people to go and live on Earth, and he'd been quite vocal about that during the victory tour. Then, of course, he'd disappeared. Whether he was actually still alive on Earth or the Cylons had killed him, nobody knew.

Their conversation was cut short as the compartment door opened again, signifying Six's return. This time she was accompanied by a man with blond hair and gray eyes, but both tributes recognised him as just another skinjob. "Lee, Kara, this is the Two who will be your mentor," Six introduced him.

Kara glanced over at Lee and muttered under her breath. "What do you think's worse; having the toasters make us fight each other to the death in the first place, or having them tell us how to win?"

Lee just looked grimly back at her as they waited for the Two to speak.

-oOo-

_Colonial Transport Vessel  
Mid-transit, Picon to Caprica_

As Six left the room again, leaving them to 'get acquainted', the Eight sat herself down opposite Galen and Cally and gave a slight smile. It didn't seem at all friendly to the tributes when it came from a Cylon, and realising that wasn't actually making them feel any more comfortable, she stopped smiling and introduced herself. "As Six has said, I'm the Eight who'll be your mentor. Since we've found that names can help you trust us, you can call me Sharon."

"I don't normally call toasters by name," Cally muttered, and a look of disappointment crossed over Sharon's face.

"Alright, that's understandable," she responded calmly, "But I _am _your mentor and you're my tributes, and believe it or not, I do actually want you to win."

She let that sink in for a couple of seconds, even though the tributes were still far from convinced, but then Galen said, "Alright, so why don't you start telling is how we do that?"

"I'm going to. But why don't you get something to eat first?" Sharon suggested, making an effort to be friendly, but Galen just gave her a sullen look.

"I'm not hungry."

"Okay…" Sharon didn't want to antagonize them. She'd done this before, many times, but she found it never got easier. They were always suspicious of her, and justifiably so, but she did genuinely get quite attached to her tributes. Unlike some of the other mentor models, she didn't enjoy seeing them go and die. "I'll get started then," she answered. "The first thing you'll need to know is how to actually get to the arena in the first place. There's a launch site where there'll be eighteen vessels, and each tribute is going to have to get in and fly one of them if they want to reach the Galactica." Already looks of horror were forming on their faces, but she tried to overlook that and continued. "The first thing they'll teach you in the two weeks training is how to fly a Raptor and a Viper. In the actual Games there'll be six Vipers and twelve Raptors. The Raptors are easier to fly and can take more than one person, but the Vipers are armed. Whoever gets in one of them will have the chance to blow the others out of the sky."

"Wait," Cally interrupted suddenly, looking at her in disbelief. "You're saying _we're _going to have to fly a Viper or a Raptor?"

"Yes, but you will be trained," Sharon replied, but it didn't little to reassure the two tributes who were wholly inexperienced with flying any kind of aircraft. "Even though the Vipers are armed, I'd recommend going for a Raptor. It's difficult to fly the Vipers out of the atmosphere once they've left the ground to air launch tubes, and even if they make it that far they're still harder to land. The Viper pilots will have no experience; their aim will be completely off and there isn't much chance of them hitting you. Just make sure you get up in the air and land safely: landing is half the challenge, so make sure you pay attention to that part of the training. I'd also suggest you team up: there aren't enough planes to go round, and if you get two people in a Raptor flying it will probably go smoother than with just one of you. Make sure you move fast. There'll be a five minute scramble to get to the birds after the starting horn sounds, and if you don't get up in the air and away in that time the entire launch site explodes."

Looks of terror crossed their faces as she told them what they would have to do, but even though Sharon didn't like seeing that, it was easier to say it all in one go than keep dumping bad news on them later.

Sharon noticed Galen was frowning slightly as if in thought, then he spoke up again. "You're going to let us fly Raptors? Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't they have faster-than-light capabilities?"

Sharon smiled slightly, knowing what he was thinking. "They do, but don't go getting any ideas. All the FTL drives on the Raptors have been disabled, and if anyone tries flying away our Raiders will be onto them in minutes. People have tried it before, and they didn't get very far."

Galen looked crushed by that news, but he couldn't possibly have really been considering it anyway. He knew that the Cylons must have every possible escape route covered.

"That's the first obstacle you'll have to overcome. Would you like to hear the rest of it? Or do you think you'd like to get some food and some sleep first," Sharon said, "Because I guarantee you, you'll need your rest."

"Alright," Galen grumbled, standing up. His stomach was still churning uncomfortably, but he knew she was right: he'd have to eat something at some point. And that was probably enough bad news for him to try and wrap his head around for now.

Cally followed him, deciding to go and get something to eat as well. "So, you and me? Think we should form a Raptor crew?" she said quietly.

He looked down at her, thinking how much more difficult it would be for them to turn on each other later if they started out like this, but there didn't seem to be much choice. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he replied.

-oOo-

_Colonial Transport Vessel  
Mid-transit, Tauron to Caprica_

Karl Agathon climbed into the top bunk in the cabin he and the other tribute had been allocated. It was nine hours until they reached Caprica, and the Eight they had as a mentor had recommended that they got some sleep in before then. Karl wasn't convinced that he'd get any, being as nervous as he was, but he understood that it was probably a good idea to try.

The other tribute was in the bed below him. She was sixteen – just a year younger than him – and they hadn't actually spoken much to each other since they'd got here. That probably made things easier. Neither of them had ever met before in their lives, and all he knew was her name: Tory Foster. She could well be a very nice girl, for all he knew. It seemed likely, actually, but Karl couldn't stand the thought of even beginning to make friends with her when he would have to face her in a fight to the death later on. It sickened him: the thought of what he was going to have to do; what the Cylons forced people to do all across the colonies in order to strengthen their own tyrannical reign, but he didn't see what possible options he had to try and resist it. It was best for both of them that Tory remained as much a stranger to him as every other tribute from across the colonies.

Despite not wanting to know her better, he had to admit he'd been impressed by how well she was handling it so far. She was managing to retain her calm composure, but that didn't mean she wasn't just as scared as he was. The Eight – who wanted to be called Athena – had given them the pep talk about what was in store, and he honestly found the prospect of it terrifying. What also disturbed him was the way the Cylons had taken to giving themselves names, supposedly for the tributes' benefit. Particularly Athena. It was a blasphemous name for a Cylon, but she's said that one of her former tributes had chosen it. A tribute who was dead now, just like Karl most likely would be soon.

He found it unusual, that a tribute who had once been in this position would choose to give his mentor that name, but he also found it surprising how the Eight model somehow seemed more caring - dare he even say human - than the other models. She'd taken no delight in telling him the many ways in which he could die. Maybe it was just an act, but she did genuinely seem to want to help her tributes win. Maybe he didn't know what to make of it, but he was grateful that he had this model as mentor and not one of the others. Especially not a Six.

Somehow, sleep found him at some point in the journey. For a while he dreamt of being in a forest in the rain, running away from a convoy of centurions. At one point one caught up with him, and he grappled with it before falling down. Then a Six appeared from somewhere. "Are you alive?" she asked, before leaning down to kiss him. Then she was shot and Karl realised that he'd been saved by an Eight. The weirdness of the whole thing only dawned on him after waking, as he realised he was being gently shaken into consciousness by the real Eight telling him that they'd be arriving on Caprica in fifteen minutes.


End file.
